Interlude - The Cypress Tree Tunnel

If you haven’t yet, you can catch up on the previous installments of the Interlude series by clicking below.

You can find part one here, part two here, and part three here.

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This is one of the many locations for our trip that I stumbled upon thanks to Instagram. I personally had never heard of it, but a glorious picture of it popped up in my discover feed and I was ecstatic to find out how close is was to where we were staying in Inverness, CA.

The road out to the tree tunnel and seashore is winding and quiet. Massive farms sprawl out on either side as you roll along. It’s far removed from the quaint community of Point Reyes and speaks more of rustic loneliness and old world charms.

We drove and drove through the naked, grass covered hills until suddenly a dark line appeared on our left.

The Cypress Tree Tunnel.

We arrived on a blustery, bright morning and had the location entirely to ourselves. I’ll set it again and again: being willing to travel to popular destinations on less than stellar weather days makes things way more enjoyable for us. Less people = less stress for this little introverted family.

Don’t write off going somewhere you’re wanting to just because the weather isn’t perfect. Invest in good clothing and you (and the kids!) will be much more up for tackling the “bad” weather together!

The Cypress Tree Tunnel was unforgettable. Experiencing it during a cold sunrise was like walking in a poem come to life. It’s been said that “grief needs beauty” and this place—this trip— was that for us.

We had just limped out of a hurricane of year with hearts still bruising and tender. Having the freedom to go and see and explore and touch and taste the goodness of the Lord in the forms of His creation was a healing gift that we still marvel over. In this place, our limbs worked hard, our blood quickened; our lungs inhaled sharply in wonder and exhaled slowly in gratefulness at what God was allowing us to experience as a family.

I can’t wait to share more but—like a track on repeat—the things we saw and did on this trip were tailor made to delight each one of us. God had not forgotten us and a here was a glimpse of tangible proof.

We walked underneath the tangling trees limbs embracing overhead. Playing, hugging, just being together. “So this,” I thought later. “this is what it feels like to know you’re seen and known by God.”

“For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall make a name for the Lord, an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.” -Isaiah 55:12-13

it matters--what do on a rainy day in Cincinnati

We've spent more time exploring locally around our home than any other Summer we've live here before. Maybe we've been emboldened by our capabilities while away on our intense month long trip out West. Maybe it's that our babies are at the perfect traveling age. Whatever it is, we've absolutely loved getting further acquainted with all the treasures near our home in the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky area. 

One such discovery were the A. J. Rahn Greenhouses

Imagine if the Bennet family from Pride & Prejudice converted their home to an extensive plant nursery and opened it to the public. That's what this place felt like: a haven of quiet, country elegance just out side the hum and bustle of Cincinnati. 

We arrived on an overcast day while rain drizzled in a fine mist from the overcast sky. But that didn't hinder us one bit  because almost all of the greenhouses are completely covered with lots of space for running about. It's a perfect place to come and wander on a day when the weather might have otherwise kept you indoors. 

I will unashamedly say that this place was a dream for photographers. Every corner was stuffed with old world charm, lovely growing things and cream-soft light. Jonathan captured the best shots of us just being ourselves, together.

(my favorite)

If you find yourself here, keep an eye out for the spotted cat and the canary named Ronan. The sweet, helpful staff will most likely introduce them to you if you don't happen to find them on your own. I loved just walking around here and getting to admire all the growing things. Such a quiet, healing sort of place. 

I often ponder on our children's first memories. What will they be? Will they remember in color or emotion? Will their hearts remember the strong arms of their father or scent of my skin as I wore them close? Will they recall how  we tried new foods and ventured into unknown places; doing it all together  because we hoped to gift them the spirit of adaptability? I hope so. 

I hope they know how much I believe all of it---everything we did with them--mattered more than they could possibly know.